The Elevator Chronicles
by finding
Summary: At the heart of Tokyo stand high-rising skyscrapers and trendy mansionettes with elevators. Fuji returns home late from class one day, and an enigma that is Tezuka has kept him going home at that time ever since. AU


**The Elevator Chronicles**

In the heart of Tokyo stand high-rising skyscrapers and trendy mansions with elevators. Fuji returns home late from class one day, and an enigma keeps him going home at that time ever since. [Perfect]

**Chapter One**

**More Than Words**

_More than words_

_Is all you have to do to make it real._

_--More Than Words | Extreme_

It was a terribly long day at school, but Fuji was still smiling. For a day like that certainly meant that something good was bound to happen.

With the fruit of a month's work safely in his backpack, Fuji began to pack up, skillfully rolling up sheets of paper and recapping markers. "Thank you, 'tobe-chan," he said teasingly on his third capped marker to the disdained male model sitting before him, signaling that he was not needed anymore.

"Ore-sama is not _'tobe-chan_," the model scoffed lightly, flicking his shoulder-length hair backwards as if to prove his point, but gave a tiny smile nonetheless. "It's always fun working with you, Fuji. You take the best shots of me."

"As always," Fuji replied with a sincere smile as Atobe stood up and left. He could already see the black rim of a polished limousine in the driveway through the open window. "Only 'tobe-chan's worth our extra time, ne, Yukimura?"

He shot a quick look at the clock, dutifully hanging on the nearby wall. Nearly five o'clock, and the undeveloped films of the latest shoot still rested quietly in a neat pile on the table. The five o'clock shadow had lazily spread across his desk. "It's sure a long day today." Fuji commented casually, a languid smile spreading on his face, delicate fingers reaching for haphazard sheets of paper, and then zipping up his backpack.

"Well, it can get worse," a gentle voice came from behind him. Yukimura. Soft, placid, fragile. Also beautiful. He neatened up his own bench with ease, each movement light, almost surreal. Fuji parked himself atop a bench, and sat with his cheek in his palm until Yukimura turned off the lights. "Let's go, Fuji. There's still hope in getting home before sunset!"

Fuji slung his bag over one shoulder and followed Yukimura, closing the door gently behind him. He didn't believe it would be a pleasant day, he _knew _it would be.

Even the stained horizon appeared just a little different.

--

He hadn't wanted to bring along too many items, despite his mother's insistence. It wasn't a move too far off, he had said simply. He would come back to visit.

He chose a midnight train and slipped out of the house quietly, unnoticeably. There would be no tearful goodbyes.

Tezuka alighted from the cab with one hand on his bag, eyes trained on the map, cross-checking with the building looming over him. Tokyo was not a familiar district, much less the skyscrapers and apartments. With the edge of his palm, he pushed his glasses up his nose bridge, just a tad irritated at how helpless he felt in this new area.

It didn't matter. Tezuka hoisted his bag up, walking swiftly towards the lobby. A gust of chilly air-conditioning welcomed him as he ventured through the revolving door. Seated behind a table was an old security guard; Tezuka greeted him with a nod. He was a little behind schedule - the train had met with delay.

"Here you go, Tezuka-san." The receptionist handed over his keys with a polite smile. "Your apartment will be on the 15th floor, second on the right."

"Aa, thank you." He took long strides towards the elevator, and a tiny chill ran down his back. It would take a while to get used to air-conditioning, he told himself, and planned on making his way over to the stairs, when he spotted a smiling man holding the doors open for him.

"You're new, right?"

--

Fuji was entranced from the minute Tezuka stepped through the revolving doors. He had lived here for a long time – four years now, and his polite, smiling demeanor had earned him many acquaintances and friends. But this man, this man he had never seen before – broad, firm steps, quiet, efficient manners, build of a model – no, a god. He was an enigma. Fuji studied him with quiet interest.

Not a single trace of imperfection marred the features of this man.

And so he gazed, weakened fingers inconsiderably resting upon the 'door open' button. "You're new, right?"

The stranger strode towards the elevator, his every movement natural, hypnotic. "Yes." Fuji was glad for his habitual smile of a façade. "Thank you."

The door closed before them.

"You'll grow to like this place," Fuji grinned fondly. "Well, eventually." It was impossible to try to look away. The stranger had not spoken, merely massaged the area around his nose bridge. It must have been the flight or train ride, Fuji thought inwardly, but didn't voice his thoughts.

He was momentarily reminded of Atobe – rich, beautiful, elegant, the perfect model… yet every time he snapped shots of him, something was amiss. Something he couldn't quite place his finger on –

_Ding._

His fingers reached across the stranger, helplessly hovering near the 'door open' button. The florescent light bordering 14 disappeared with the sharp, crisp sound, yet the 15th was lit. Ah.

"Saaa, I'll see you around then." he tossed his words with a careless smile before disappearing down the hallway.

Why had he said that?

--

Tezuka was exhausted. He determined to take a slight rest after unpacking his backpacker's luggage, sorted out the general furniture, took a bath, and cooked for dinner (even if it was just instant noodles with canned food – Tezuka never liked these, but this was stranger land, of course, and he hadn't had time to visit the market).

As he sat on the couch, waiting for the noodles to cool, he thought about many things. Registration with the university, finding a job to support his schooling fees, and that man in the elevator with that… smile. Shy and bold. Unnerving and intriguing.

He steered himself away from straying, impractical thoughts, returning to his noodles which were already stone cold.

--

A/N: Oh hi there! I know that the last bit about Tezuka was a little disjointed, and it doesn't really flow overall, but I picked this up really long after I first began so please forgive me. /o/ Drop a review if you can! I'd appreciate them, especially ones on how to improve this so it won't be that boring. ^^


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